


saints and sinners alike

by knourish (OceanicWaters)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Abusive Parents, Connor Deserves Happiness, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Multi, Needles, Overdosing, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, adding tws now but other tags will come with chapters, evan deserves happiness, jared deserves happiness, no ship anything happens for quite a while, none of the main characters die but the deaths are important to plot, purposefully short prologue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-01-19 04:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12402771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanicWaters/pseuds/knourish
Summary: "these hands will crack the earth to tear the devil apart."Connor and jared were best friends once.**UNDER RECONSTRUCTION**





	1. prologue; call in the coroner

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i've been working on this au for several weeks now and i finally decided she deserves to be posted!  
> a few notes;  
> -this is just a prologue, sort of getting my footing into the story. it's not supposed to be long.  
> -this au can be very triggering, please tread with caution  
> -this au was made for coping reasons  
> -this fic is gonna be a long one

When you’re 13 years old, your number one fear shouldn’t be your father.  
But when you’re 13 year old Connor Murphy, your whole life seems to revolve around ‘ _shouldn’t_ ’s. They define you, in fact.  
_You shouldn’t smoke pot._  
_You shouldn’t be out past curfew._  
_You shouldn’t lie to your parents.  
You shouldn’t threaten to kill your sister. _

__

__

____

_You shouldn’t be afraid of your father._

__

  


_And you shouldn’t be running away from home at 3AM on a school night_ , Connor thinks, completing the mental list, _but here you are._  
  
He doesn’t have much packed. A few shirts, a change of pants, and $60, 20 of which was stolen from his mother. But hey, a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. He doesn’t have much on him either, now that he thinks about it. His jeans are ratty and he has a band patch to sew up a hole near the crotch, a hoodie with the thumb holes cut, and a sweater underneath. He’s pretty sure converse don’t count as walking shoes, but he decides he’ll worry about that later. Connor stops at the intersection before thinking long and hard about where he’ll go from here.  
  
If he were any other kid his age, he’d be unnerved by his surroundings. The town’s lifeless, and there’s no cars on the highway. He can’t smell gasoline or hear engines revving. In fact, he only hears crickets and smells dead grass that pokes uncomfortably at his thin legs.  
But he’s not any other kid his age. He’s a kid who has been out many a time to experience mid-night serenity. Connor’s come to notice he doesn’t appreciate it so much anymore.  
That’s when he decides his destination. Anywhere but here, he thinks. Anywhere where he won’t be so uninspired by what he sees. He wants to feel childlike excitement again. The excitement of getting to see a place outside of your habitat- like when a child is taken out of school and gets to see adults living life. The excitement that always came with there are people outside of school. Connor doesn’t want to just be one of those kids who runs away and is found somewhere downtown later that day. He doesn’t want to be found.  
He briefly considers his family’s reaction. Would they regret what they’d done? Would they regret not sending him away sooner or something? Did they already regret him?  
Probably.  
And with that in mind, he starts walking along the service road that he knows goes to the train station with earbuds [blasting in his ears](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ldjbjwim4k) .  
  
Jared comes to his mind.  
  
Jared leaves his mind.  
  
Jared left their friendship.  
  
Stupid Jared.  
  
Stupid Dad.  
  
Connor can’t wait to get out of this stupid town.


	2. ask anyone who knows me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trying to contain an ocean can't be done with glass.

_ When Evan moved to town, it was sophomore year over winter break. He and Heidi had a small little house at the end of the road and the Kleinmans visited from three doors over with cookies as a welcoming gift. The boys were sent up to Evan’s room while their parents spoke, and Jared didn’t hesitate to express the way he felt towards the kid. He had plopped down on the tidy, mostly bare bed, and watched his host just stand in the corner nervously. _

_ “Why do you shake like that? Where’s your dad?” _

_ Evan had been caught off guard, and tried to sputter out an explanation. Jared had never met someone with one parent before, and he was the only person he knew that had two moms.. Why was this kid so nervous? He didn’t get it. He sat on the bed and finally just told Evan, “Never mind.” Just like that, they were friends. _ __   
  


_ At least, to Jared they were. The rest of the break had been spent with little to no communication, but when school was back in session, Jared pulled right up to the bus stop and told Evan to get in. Jared still remembers how Evan tried to get out a thanks, and how surprised he’d looked when Jared started eating lunch with him every day. _

 

_ As if Evan didn’t think Jared liked him. _

 

Jared was cut out of his reflections at the sound of the front door. He had had his earbuds in, playing some [ chilled out pop song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75q3TviEL0w) he’d long since recommended his roommate loud enough that he couldn’t hear the words being spoken to him. The song always made him think of the past, which was probably why he had just been sitting around reminiscing.

 

__ _ The glass is somehow intact. _

 

If you told 16 year old Jared that he’d grow up to have a nice apartment with his new friend, sharing a cat and surrounded in potted plants with a steady income from his music, he would laugh in your face. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen himself with a bright future, or anything along those lines, but it was not what he saw for himself. Jared had grown up so sure he would grow up to work in outdoor recreation and live with--

 

Out the earbuds went and Jared frowned at the look of panic in his roommate’s expression.

“ _ Ev? Buddy, take a breath and talk to me. What’s up _ ?”

               He stood and guided Evan to sit, keeping his hands on the other’s clothed shoulders. He removed them only to turn down his music and push his earbud in to Evan’s left ear. “ _ Talk to me _ ,” he repeated looking uncharacteristically serious. He heard the chirp of the calico cat somewhere behind him and rubbed Evan’s shoulders while his roommate tried to get out an explanation.

 

“ _ I-I think someone’s following me? I mean.. Okay, that sounds paranoid, but.. I dunno, it’s stupid, I--.. All today I kept seeing this really scary guy with face tattoos following me in the stores and stuff..? _ ” Looking at Evan, tears were evident in his eyes and it immediately spiked a feeling of worry in Jared’s chest. He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together in a hope to ground the other.

_ A knick in the glass _ .

               “ _ What? Fuck, uh.. Alright. Did you have anywhere else you needed to go? Did he follow you home? _ ” The look in Evan’s face frightened Jared, even after all of these years.

               “ _ No, I.. I don’t think so. I had to go to the bookstore though? But you don’t have to _ —” “ _ Ev, I’m coming with. Just let me get ready _ .”

***

Getting to the bookstore had always been an easy trip. Once you get out to the sidewalk, turn right and go straight until you see the red awning. Simple enough. But Jared had felt on edge the whole walk there. He kept his eyes darting every which way and his hands shoved into his pockets, ready to pounce on the first person he saw- but maybe he just got that feeling from the painfully obvious aura surrounding Evan, who could hardly seem to walk.

The little bookstore was usually Evan’s favorite place- small, but full, and never with more than two other people. When entering, to one side were vinyl records, and to the other was the start of the books with the religion section. Jared pointed to let Evan know where he’d be, and made his way to the music section, keeping Evan’s whereabouts in the corner of his eye.

_ Reputation, Abbey Road, Dark Side of the Moon…. _ Nothing especially caught his eye until he spotted the American Football album (the first self-titled, of course) and raised his brows. Flipping it over, he looked through the tracklist as if he hadn’t listened to the album a million times and eyed the ‘colored vinyl’ sticker. Definitely up for consideration.

He didn’t even realize he’d stopped paying attention until a figure practically crashed into his back, nearly knocking the record out of his hand. A tall, clumsy, and hyperventilating figure.

“ _ Evan? Wh _ -“

“ _ It’s him, Jared, he’s here, I think he followed us here which means he might know where we live and I don’t know what to do and _ —”

_ The glass cracks slightly. _

Evan had always been bad at whispering, so it was a wonder that not everyone in the store heard them, but he just nodded and looked over Evan’s shoulder.

And he was right- Indeed there was the back of a tall, skinny guy with messy hair (and some braids? It was hard to tell.) and dirty clothes in the science fiction aisle.

“ _ Okay, Ev, just--.. Fuck, alright, just hold this, try not to knock the whole shelf over, and I’ll talk to your secret admirer _ ,” he promised, handing the record over before sauntering over. The whole time he could hear Evan just try to change his mind, whisper-hissing, “ _ Jared..! Jared come /back/..! _ ” But of course he wouldn’t do that, he was Jared Kleinman and his roommate was being borderline stalked.

He approached the guy and cleared his throat, which made the guy whip around. The fact that a tiny guy like Jared could put such an intimidated look in the man’s features already said a lot about the other, but Evan was right- this dude looked  _ freaky _ . But also very,  _ very _ familiar.

Oh,  _ shit _ .

_ The crack gets deeper _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i definitely meant to have this out SO much sooner!!! i dont know why it was so hard to write ;;  
> apologies for the cliffhanger!!! i promise i'll pick up the pace soon!!! <3  
> thank you for reading!!


	3. eye of your mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jared and evan confront the man with the face tattoos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wasn't beta'd for part of it so please bear with me!! :') thank you to all who are still reading!  
> i'm thinking of changing the ship in this to kleinsen before anything happens but i'm unsure. let me know!  
> please dont forget to kudos and comment! :')

_It was April of 2008 and the Murphy attic was the current after school hangout. Two middle school boys were doing exactly that, hanging out. One Connor Murphy sitting on the window sill and one Jared Kleinman laying belly down on the floor and drawing. Outside, sun beams were flooding in and framing the stereo off to the side and reflect off the clear plastic of their laminated paper sign, reading, "Kingdom of the best friends in the Unaverse!!" from when they were 7. Backpacks have been dumped near the stairs, earbuds and ipod touches were scattered on the floor, and record crates, CD shelves, and various artworks lined the walls- mostly badly drawn anime portraits of each other. On the radio,_ [ _a song by a band_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxOn-aZZ9z0) _Connor only recognized as 'The Wonderwall dudes' played._ _  
_ _It was Connor who spoke first. "Hey, Jared? Can you promise something?" An inquisitive look from Jared. "Yeah man, what's up?" "That we'll be friends forever?" Jared could almost laugh at that. "Of course, Hot Topic. We don't need a promise to know that."_

   

If only Jared had known his best friend would disappear two months later. That was the last time the glass was broken.

 

       "Uh. Are you alright, dude? Did you need something?"

   The words snapped Jared out of his stupor to look at the familiar face covered in metal and black tattoos. Oh right, he was having to hold together the glass shards using only a bandaid.

      "Oh, sorry. You just.. You look like someone I used to know. But you're not him," he chuckled bitterly. He hadn't even realized Evan was now standing behind him until he felt the hand on his shoulder.

 

   It was an expression on Jared's face that Evan had seen far too often. A look of pain and guilt that was specifically reserved for the topic of Connor Murphy. Evan never got to meet him, but he still helped Jared search every weekend for the lost friend. He had to admit, beneath the tattoos, this guy really did look like the pictures he'd seen of Connor. Just.. With hollowed out cheeks and face tattoos.

   

      "Okay, well.. Can I help you two with something, or did I come to be stared at..?" Shit, right.

   It was Evan that spoke up next, and he wasn’t sure why, but the name slipped out from between his lips like a curse. "Connor?"

 

      "Yes?"

Jared's stomach lurched and his eyes went wide. No bandaid could hold this water back. There was already a leak and he started tearing up.

      "Wait.. Connor /Murphy/?" "Okay, do I know you..? You're kind of freaking me out.."

Jared was forcibly holding back tears to this point and he took a shaky breath.   
“Oh, um.. Sorry for bothering you, but.. We used to be best friends, but I probably just have the wrong Connor Murphy anyways,” he explained, trying to laugh the whole thing off. Maybe he could still get out of this.

    “Wait. Can we talk outside? I left my dog out there, but.. Yeah, I think I remember you kind of.”  
    The whole situation was weird and Evan didn’t like witnessing it. It was such a tender and personal moment for Jared- anyone could see that- but it was clear Connor’d been just as scared and confused and vulnerable in this moment. He wondered if it could be fixed with just words. He wondered if the two can repair.. Anything really. He didn’t know where Connor’d been or what he’d done, and he knew Jared didn’t either. And that could either be the best or worst thing. It was up to Connor to decide which.

When Jared nodded, Connor took in a breath and the trio headed out of the little bookstore to be greeted by a little Bull Terrier with a little bandana around her neck. She clearly had more zest than Connor, wagging her tail enough to wriggle her body. Evan thought she was beyond cute, with her buff little body and mostly brown fur. She was clearly a good girl.

Connor cracked a smile at that and knelt down to pet the pup. “This is Baby Girl. She’s my travellin’ buddy.” He guided them to go sit on the nearest bench, which they all did, and started the impossible conversation.

“So.. Who are you both, first of all?”

Jared visibly tensed up and Evan knew he’d need to give his roomie the backrub of his life later. “Um. I’m Jared. We were best friends once? I have a picture from my 8th birthday party, if you wanna see..”

Jared was uncharacteristically nervous, and it rubbed off on Evan, who started getting antsy as well. A picture was brought out from Jared’s wallet and handed over to Connor.

Evan’s seen the picture a million times. It’s Jared and Connor, posing at the skate rink, and Cynthia Murphy can be seen laughing at their antics in the background.

Connor clearly recognized it as well, because his brows shot up and he chewed on his lip.

“Yeah that… That sure is me.”

The picture was clearly old, torn around the edges, but Connor didn’t seem to mind, carefully taking the photography with shaking hands. It was then that the flood started, and Jared just started crying. Right then and there. It wasn’t ugly sobbing or anything by that means, but his shoulders shook and it made Connor jump a bit.

“Was I.. Was I not supposed to take this? I’m sorry--..” “No, no, you’re fine, I’m sorry, it’s just..” Evan filled in for him then.

“Me and Jared have looked for you every weekend? Um.. Where.. Where were you?” The first sentence came out more as a question, but that was typical of Evan. Not so much Jared.

“Oh, uh.. I suppose I’ve been all over? I came here from Dallas, actually..”

The words came out before Jared meant for them to, but he blurted out, “Come stay tonight at our place,” and found himself needing to explain himself to avoid anything being misconstrued.

“I..I mean.. I’d just be a lot more comfortable knowing you and Baby have someplace safe to stay.”

Connor clearly looked unsure, but he eventually nods.

“I’ll uh.. We gotta pack up my camp, so gimme the address and I’ll come by tonight?”

“Okay, yeah, that works for us.”

 

That evening, arriving at the Hansen/Kleinman- Kleinsen?- household proved to be beyond difficult for Connor. Arriving back to the clearing and gathering his things had been easy. He’d done it a million and one times before, but this.. This was being invited into someone’s home. Someone normal. If Andrew were still around, he’d be calling them yuppie scum and hailing the next train out. But Andrew wasn’t here, and Connor needed someone.

So, with a deep breath, he knocked on the door and stood outside awkwardly, holding his canvas bag close to him and Baby sitting obediently at his ankle.

 

Evan was the one to answer and he offered Connor a little smile. “Oh- hey, Connor, um.. Come in.”

He’d vaguely wondered about Connor’s slouch earlier, but this definitely answered it. His bag was nearly twice his size, which he supposed made sense, but it made him feel for the other..

Connor stepped in and looked beyond suspicious of his surroundings. What was he supposed to do? How did he act in a yuppie house? What if they robbed him? He still hardly even remembered Jared, why was he doing this?

Oh right. Because he has a weird relationship with home. That’s cool.

He gulped and looked to Evan, asking the question on the forefront of his brain.

“Can I take a shower?”

Evan just gave another smile and led him across the living room and into a miniature hallway, in which the bathroom was to the left. “Our spare room is right across if you would, um.. If you wanna set your things down?”

No way, nu-uh. Not that he didn’t trust these, guys, but he didn’t trust these guys. He brought his bag with him into the bathroom as the smell of chicken filled the apartment, which let him know Jared was cooking dinner.

The bathroom was small- the floor was made of limestone tile, and the walls had a nice wallpaper that made Connor feel all sorts of out of place..

He decided then that this was no place for him. This was a nice place and he was nothing but a stray. He didn’t deserve dinner served on a ceramic plate. Hell, he didn’t even deserve a roof over his head.. He’d be gone by 5AM the next morning. Hopefully then, Jared wouldn’t have to see him leave again.

 _At Connor’s 11th birthday party, he invited 5 people- Jared, Alana, and 3 boys from his grade. Only Jared showed up. It was a year they both remembered fondly. Cynthia had made brownies for the 5 preteens invited, but the pair of best friends scarfed them down nevertheless, and they even played hide and go seek with a ten year old Zoe. That year, Jared got him a Bullet for my Valentine shirt, and on the radio,_ [ _a song by a band_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxOn-aZZ9z0) _Connor only recognized as 'The Wonderwall dudes' played._


	4. earth to the morgue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor has a dream.

When you’re a 14 year old on your first freight train, you’re going to have anxiety.  
No one had told Connor this, nor had they told him that thin hoodies don’t really protect you from the cold, and here he lay, somewhere in Missouri, shivering in between some crates with his trusty earbuds still attached to his ears. They were basically all he had left- his money was stolen, his spare clothes destroyed. He missed his home. But even if he did want to go back, he wouldn’t know how.  
  
No. He couldn’t think like that. He wasn’t going back to a home where bad things happened and friends forgot about you.  
Connor’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden noise that flooded past whatever he was listening to currently. His eyes opened drearily to see two men, much older than himself.

The first man, who he noticed was holding his pack, looked incredibly taken aback, looking between Man Two and Connor. He stood at what had to be a little less than 6 foot, so he would tower over Connor, but he was no match for the guy yelling at him. A mohawk was tied back in a rubber band over dull eyes and sunken cheeks.  
This was Connor’s first glimpse at an addict, he realized, and he felt fear boil in the pit of his stomach. If this guy wasn’t currently stealing his stuff, though, he realized he’d probably think the other man very cool. His pants were plaid, with zippers and patches and chains all over, and his jacket was held together by what had to be dozens of band patches, like the Exploited and Dead Kennedys.

The man yelling gestured to Connor and that was when the earbuds came out and he sat up, catching both men’s attention. The taller of the two, his defender, was dressed similarly, though he was covered in leather and spikes and it was a much tougher image than Connor ever thought he’d see. His mohawk was up and short, face a bit scruffy, but the signs of addiction were still there. Sunken eyes and cheeks, and the inner arm bruises that now caught Connor’s eyes. He looked like everything Connor wanted to be- strong, independent, cool, tough...

Many people describe angels as blonds in robes with wings, but this was a whole new meaning. This man was beautiful, celestial. Connor found himself wanting to give him his trust. This man was everything Connor wished Larry had been.

The pack was dropped in front of Connor’s feet and he jumped at the loud thud it made before the Beautiful Man plopped down beside him. “You alright? I got to him before he could get any a’ your shit. You’ve been out a while. Started to think you kicked the bucket.”

Connor sputtered for a response, shaken from his seraphic thoughts in the stars and brought back down to the dirty train car with the [sad song blasting in his earbuds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxQVElXpTVg).

The man just gave a lopsided smile and offered a dirty hand to shake. Connor carefully shook it. “Andrew.”

“...Connor. Connor Murphy.”

Andrew tsked at that and relayed it back to him. “Connor Murphy, huh? Pretty name. C’mon, kid. There’s no way you’re gonna survive like this. Next town, let’s get some food in you, aight?”  
    The suggestion made Connor’s stomach turn. Did he really look that pitiful? He wondered what Andrew had thought upon looking at him. It’d been… at least 12 hours since he’d eaten last, and that meal was a cup of stale Cheez-Its from some pitying old lady. Food sounded amazing right now, especially since Andrew seemed to be treating.  
    “So what’s a scrawny lil’ kid like you doing train hopping? You don’t seem the type, no offense.” Andrew’s expression was kind, his sunken eyes warm and inviting and _hypnotizing_.

Connor didn’t even mean to start speaking when he did. “I’m a stereotype. You know. Hated my parents so I ran away.”

“That’s fair. Why the hate?” Maybe it was because Andrew had a talent for bringing information and backstories out of others, but Connor ended up spilling everything out to the other. “My mom’s crazy, my dad’s an evil creep, and my sister thinks I’m the devil. Maybe I am. Either way, it’s better I’m not there,” he explained, fiddling with his long and nimble fingers. Andrew bobbed his head in an understanding manner as he listened,as if he’d heard the story a million times before. “What about you?”

Andrew seemed surprised by that, pointing to himself and raising his brows. “Me? Aw, I’m nothin’ special. I was probably your age when I started travellin’. I get whatchu mean, tho. My dad was a drunk. How old are you anyways?”  
    The quick topic change gave Connor a weird feeling, but he chose to ignore it. This was a man he could trust. “Fourteen. You?”

“Daaamn, I’m old. I’m nineteen. Hey, my stop’s comin’ up. Let’s grab a bite to eat. I’ll show you the ropes.”  
    The offer spurred an odd emotion in Connor’s chest, but he made a conscious choice to ignore it. After all, why should he doubt this man who was willing to go out of his way to help him? With a nod, the two got ready, jumping off a mile before the train stopped and heading into who knows where.  


It felt like it was the blink of an eye and several months had passed. Connor was still travelling with Andrew and stared up at the yellow fabric of the ‘ceiling’ of their tent. He had Andrew’s arms draped around him, and a hand half way slipped under his shirt. This was it. This was the happiest he could ever be, he decided then.

    Looking over to the other’s sleeping face, a small hum escaped from his chest and he smiled a bit. He was fifteen now, and perfectly in love. The [song playing in his head](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxQVElXpTVg) seemed to fit the calm of their current state. Andrew would take care of him, and there was no denying that ever. He’d found the man he was going to marry, and the heavy feeling in his chest and sudden dryness in his mouth was obviously just his excitement bubbling up.

  
    The heaviness seemed to spur Connor awake in the guest bed at Jared’s, Baby jumping awake with him. A wave of nausea ran over his cold body- not the first one that night- as he struggled to get out of the bed. The clock read 4:00AM, and he sighed out shakily. It was time to go. He stumbled a little and looked to his pack.

    See, Connor liked to think he was respectful of other peoples’ homes. He didn’t use unless he was alone, and he certainly wasn’t about to shoot up in a nice place like Jared’s. He’d tried to quit more times than he could count, but it always seemed to be Andrew who dragged him back. He really hoped Jared wouldn’t find out he used. Heroin was a scary thing and Jared didn’t need that. Maybe he had a Suboxone left.

    ...No dice. Searching the army bag, he emptied it of his needles and his little bit of tinfoil that he kept his tar in. But no tablets that he would kill for right now. Fuck.

A man had to do what a man had to do, he supposed, as his stomach took another turn down Almost Vomit Avenue. Connor sat on the end of the bed, wrapping the rubber around his arm and slapping the inside of his elbow before his sight went a bit blurry. His stomach was hot as he felt vomit go down his chin. When did the room start spinning? The last thing he heard before his sight went black was Baby Girl’s frantic barking, and the thump of Baby- or himself? He didn’t know- landing on the carpeted floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long! thank you to ao3 users caswell and whizzr for helping me write this! i'm so glad to see people are liking this too!!;;
> 
> poor connor ;; 
> 
> i also have a drawing of what he looks like here!  
> https://seasaltvamp.tumblr.com/post/165951498724/i-hate-the-system-and-how-i-cant-remember-your
> 
> please leave a comment or a kudos or hmu at my tumblr @ seasaltvamp.tumblr.com !!


End file.
